


sexting with derek and stiles

by poetictragedy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Sexting, Voice Kink, brief talk of bottom!derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetictragedy/pseuds/poetictragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In order to get Derek to have sex with him - or to even be interested in having sex with him - Stiles goes to his best friend for advice and gets the worst possible suggestion in the world. But, having been out of ideas himself, Stiles goes along with it because he has no other chance and, who knows, maybe it will work.</p><p>(or the one where Stiles is new to sexting, Derek is semi-oblivious, naughty pictures are sent, laws are probably broken, and orgasms are achieved via telephone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	sexting with derek and stiles

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to be because, the other night, I was doing a RP on Omegle and this one one of the "prompts" I got. Sadly, the RP didn't go anywhere and I was left thinking about what sexting between Derek and Stiles would be like.
> 
> So, this fic was born. :)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

Stiles stares at his phone and at the blank message he’d brought up a few minutes before, sighing as he runs his thumb along the screen, typing random letters before deleting them. He remembers Scott’s advice and what he had said about sexting being the sure fire way to get Derek to be interested in having sex with him and scoffs. How could a few words on a screen make Derek want to have sex with him? If it were that easy, Stiles would have started sexting a long time ago.

After another moment, Stiles huffs and clenches his eyes shut for a second, placing his thumbs on the keyboard. He blinks his eyes open and stares at the white screen before moving a hand away to shove the string of his hood into his mouth. Stiles chews on it and starts to type a message easily, looking over it a few times before finally hitting send.

 **[To: Derek]**  What are you wearing?

While he waits for an answer, Stiles puts his phone on his stomach and picks up the book he’d been reading the day before. He reads the same line over and over, chewing and sucking on his hoodie string as he looks down at his phone, yelping quietly when it vibrates just above the waistband of his jeans.

Stiles throws the book onto the mattress beside him and opens Derek’s message.

 **[To: Stiles]**  Why do you want to know what I’m wearing?

 **[To: Derek]**  Because I’m curious, Derek. I’ll tell you what I’m wearing if you do.

Once the message is sent, Stiles sits up and bends one leg, crossing it underneath the other, his heart thudding in his chest as he waits for a response. It isn’t long before his phone vibrates again and he licks his lips, tapping his thumb against the screen.

 **[To: Stiles]**  I’m wearing a gray tank top and jeans. I still don’t understand why you want to know.

Snorting, Stiles rolls his eyes and then sighs heavily, tapping his fingers against the side of his phone, trying to think of how to respond to that. He sucks his lower lip between his teeth and drags them over the skin slowly before replying.

 **[To: Derek]**  Nevermind, forget about it.

 **[To: Stiles]**  No, tell me why you want to know.  
 **[To: Stiles]**  You forgot to tell me what you’re wearing.

Stiles lets out another snort and laughs at Derek’s last message.

 **[To: Derek]**  I was just trying to spice things up between us but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to work so just forget I asked.

 **[To: Stiles]**  I’m not going to forget. What do you want me to do, Stiles?

“ _So much_ ,” Stiles murmurs, to himself, as he stares at the screen, trying to come up with something to say before his phone buzzes in his hand again. He raises an eyebrow and settles back against his headboard as he opens the message, gasping quietly when he sees it’s a picture of Derek. Well, not  _all_  of Derek — just his body from the chest down but, hey, it’s good enough for Stiles. 

But he isn’t about to let Derek know that.

 **[To: Derek]**  I told you to forget about it.

A moment later, Derek sends another picture except, this time, he’s shirtless and it’s just a photograph of his torso. Stiles moans when he sees it and is  _so glad_  that they’re just texting because if Derek could hear him, he’d be so embarrassed.

 **[To: Derek]**  Stop it, Derek. You’ve already killed the mood.

 **[To: Stiles]**  So you don’t want me to send more pictures?

 **[To: Derek]**  No, you idiot, I don’t.

Stiles is suddenly thankful that werewolves can’t tell when you’re lying through text message because he does want more pictures of Derek. He wants to see what’s underneath his jeans and bites his lip thinking about it, pressing the heel of his hand against the front of his jeans.

 **[To: Stiles]**  I think you’re lying.

Before Stiles can reply to Derek, his phone vibrates again and he groans, opening the message before closing his eyes. He peeks one open, looks at the picture Derek sent him, and lets out a loud moan, clenching his eyes shut again. After giving himself a moment, Stiles blinks and stares at the screen, groaning once more. He looks at the picture — one of Derek in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs — and tosses his phone away before pulling his hoodie off.

Once he’s removed his jacket, Stiles undoes his jeans and lifts his hips off the bed, working out of the denim quickly. He kicks them off the edge of the mattress and then snatches his phone again, licking his lips quickly.

 **[To: Derek]**  Two can play that game, Alpha.

Stiles grins and opens the camera app before angling his phone down so he can get a good shot of his chest, stomach, crotch, and legs. He snaps a photo, reviews it, and chuckles quietly to himself before sending it to Derek, feeling a strange thrill go through him once the message has been delivered.

As he waits for a response, Stiles strokes himself through his boxers and bites down on his lip, looking at the pictures of Derek before his phone goes off again.

 **[To: Stiles]**  Jesus Christ, Stiles.

Grinning, Stiles moves his hand away from his lap and replies.

 **[To: Derek]**  See anything you like or would you like another picture?

Instead of getting an actual reply, Stiles receives another picture and he stares at the screen for a moment, groaning. On the screen, Derek’s got a hand on the front of his briefs and Stiles swears there’s a definite bulge underneath his palm and, yeah, he wants to see more.

 **[To: Derek]**  Fucking tease. 

 **[To: Stiles]**  You aren’t complaining, are you?

Stiles moves a hand to the front of his boxers and starts stroking himself until he’s fully hard. Once he is, he puts his phone away and tugs the fabric down his thighs, letting them fall around his knees before he grabs the phone again. With his free hand wrapped around the base of cock, Stiles takes a picture of himself and sends it to Derek.

 **[To: Derek]**  Does it LOOK like I’m complaining?

Derek’s reply comes a few minutes later in the form of a picture and Stiles chokes on the air in his throat when he sees Derek’s cock on his screen. He bites his lip and strokes his own cock slowly, waiting for another text.

 **[To: Stiles]**  And I’m not complaining, either.

 **[To: Derek]**  yeah, i’m not complaining about that, whoa.

 **[To: Stiles]**  Are you stroking your cock, Stiles?

“Fucking  _hell_ ,” Stiles groans and tips his head back against the pillow, gently gripping the middle of his shaft before stroking down. He strokes himself for a moment before tipping his head back toward his chest, licking his lips as he carefully types out a reply.

 **[To: Derek]**  maybe whats it to you?

 **[To: Stiles]**  You should call me so I can listen.

 **[To: Derek]**  do you even read what youre saying to me right now?

 **[To: Stiles]**  I can barely read what you’re saying to me.  
 **[To: Stiles]**  You really should call me. It’s getting hard to jerk off and text at the same time.

So, Derek did not just use the phrase “jerk off” and he hasn’t sent Stiles a bunch of really gorgeous photos; he’s just dreaming. That’s the only explanation for what’s happening and Stiles decides that, rather than just let a good thing pass him by, he should take Derek up on his offer and call him — dreaming or not.

Before he can think about his decision further, Stiles is calling Derek and lifting the phone to his head, swallowing thickly as he listens to the other line ring. After about the third ring, Stiles thinks that Derek is just fucking with him and is about to hang up when the line clicks over.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice is low and rough when he answers, which only makes Stiles moan and bite down on the middle of his lip, stroking up his shaft slowly. “Fuck, you sound so hot right now,” he says and Stiles whimpers before turning onto his side on the bed. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

Huffing, Stiles opens the nightstand drawer and rummages around for a bottle of lotion, pulling it out once he’s found it. “Getting lotion,” he mumbles and Derek laughs, the sound causing Stiles to blush furiously.

There’s a moment of silence while Stiles pours a small amount of lotion onto his palm before stroking it in. He tips his head back and tightens his hold on the phone, moaning as his hand slides easily down his cock; on the other line, Stiles can hear Derek breathing hard and he smiles.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks, breathless.

“Stroking my cock and thinking about you.”

Stiles bites his lip and drags his teeth along the skin slowly. “Yeah, what are you thinking about? Wait, no, let me guess — you’re thinking about bending me over the edge of my bed and fingering me, huh?”

Derek growls on the other line and Stiles’ body trembles in response.

“Cause, you know, I think about that all the time,” Stiles confesses as he moves his hand up, thumbing over the head of his cock with a quiet moan. “I think about your fingers inside of me and how ah — amazing they’d feel. So much better than my own, I bet.”

“You —  _fuck_  — finger yourself a lot, Stiles?”

Chuckling nervously, Stiles strokes down and twists his wrist slightly. “Yeah, I have for a while now. Always think about the same things: your fingers in me and then your cock pressing into my ass nice and slow,” he breathes out, whimpering as he starts to stroke a little faster.

“I bet you’re tight,” Derek growls and he’s breathing heavily on the other line; Stiles can barely make out the sound of wet slapping on the other end and he groans, imaging Derek sitting on his bed, jerking himself off. “And I bet you’d feel _so_  fucking hot and amazing around my cock.”

Neither of them speak for a moment and Stiles just listens to Derek; focuses on the way he sucks in a sharp breath every few seconds and how he growls, the sound being quite possibly the most amazing thing Stiles has ever heard.

When he can’t take just hearing the noises, Stiles starts to speak again. “I can’t wait until you can fuck me, Derek. Your cock looks so big — ah, fuck — that I… I dunno if I’ll be able to take it all,” he moans and licks his lips, smirking when he hears Derek groan.

“You — you’ll be able to take it,” Derek replies and Stiles bites his lip, stroking up his cock and twisting his wrist slightly, his entire body feeling hot all over. “I’ll work you open with three fingers and push into you nice and slow, let you get adjusted before I fuck you hard.”

That right there —  _those four words_  — almost sends Stiles over the edge and he whimpers, arching his back off the mattress as he continues to jerk himself, moving his thumb under the crown before going back down. He’s sweating and his breath is coming in harsh pants and he’s so fucking close — he can feel it — and he wants to hear Derek talk more.

“Keep — ” Stiles’ words are cut off by a loud moan and he says Derek’s name quietly before continuing, ” — keep talking, Derek, please. M’so close,  _please_.”

Stiles’ begging pulls a loud groan out of Derek, who is stroking himself harder than before, and he growls again before speaking. “I’ve thought about fucking that mouth of yours and, god, I can’t wait to do that. Just push my cock between your lips and watch the whole length disappear. You ever sucked cock before, Stiles?”

“No,” he responds and grits his teeth together, his orgasm almost there.

“Good,” Derek moans and swallows, slowing his hand down when he hears Stiles say that he’s going to come. “Fuck, yeah, come for me. Think about my fingers in your ass and my mouth on your cock, working together until you come so hard you can’t even see straight.”

The sound of Derek’s breathing, combined with his words, is just enough to push Stiles over the edge and he strokes his cock one more time, bowing his back as his orgasm hits. He lets the phone fall away from his ear and groans Derek’s name, his hips stuttering forward as he comes all over his hand, stomach, and chest.

As he settles back against the mattress, Stiles huffs and goes to grab his phone with his come-covered hand but stops, giggling quietly as he moves the other to pick it up, putting it against his ear. He can hear Derek grunting on the other line and bites down on his lip, getting a soft little whimper.

“Stiles,” he moans and Stiles feels his entire body warm at the sound of his name coming from Derek’s mouth like that. “I’m gonna — gonna come, fuck.”

Licking his lips, Stiles hums and grins. “You ever think about getting fucked, Derek? Ever just imagine what it’d feel like to have a cock up your ass?” The noise he gets in response tells Stiles that Derek has definitely thought about it and, if he didn’t know any better, probably liked the idea. “Maybe we could do that one day. You let me finger you open and fuck you into the mattress with your legs around my waist,” he breathes and bites down on his tongue when he hears Derek growl again.

It takes another moment for Derek to come and he grunts loudly, the noise tapering off into a growl that has Stiles shivering against his mattress. He listens to the Alpha breathe on the other line, licks his lips, and feels himself flush when he realizes that he just made Derek fucking Hale come just by talking dirty.

“Holy shit,” Stiles says and then laughs, loudly. When Derek mumbles a quiet _‘what’_  into the phone, the teen snorts and shakes his head, though Derek can’t see him. “Nothing, I just — can’t believe I made you come!”

Derek chuckles and exhales sharply. “Next time you can use your mouth to make me come another way,” he says and Stiles licks his lips again, nodding eagerly.

“Yeah, no, definitely. I am totally going to do that next time.”

“Good.” There’s a beat of silence and Stiles can hear bed springs squeaking, followed by the sound of a zipper being pulled up. “I should go.”

Stiles swallows and closes his eyes tightly. “Yeah, me too. I’ve got come all over me and I think I’m due for a shower,” he mutters and laughs when Derek growls his name before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Once he’s off the phone, Stiles gets up and heads to the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him before turning the shower on. He steps in, lets the warm water wash away all of the come, and thinks about how Derek sounded on the phone.

By the time he’s out of the shower, Stiles thinks that he could go again, soon, and he lays on the bed to look at the pictures Derek sent him. He saves them — because why wouldn’t he? — and sends a text to Scott, thanking him for the advice.

When Scott texts back, Stiles ignores it and jerks off again before falling asleep, completely sated.


End file.
